Chessboard, My Chessboard
by Marisa Serise
Summary: Some would call these confessions. I do not, as that implies guilt. Guilt has no ability to exist in my world. The mostly serious diary of Aizen Sousuke. Set within the 'Moonbathing' universe / HM arc but beginning to veer AU. See notes inside.
1. Chapter 1

Chessboard, My Chessboard: The Journal of Aizen Sousuke

**A/N: Bleach is not mine. This story is for mature audiences only.**

**Yes, I'm aware the journal format has been done. However, I was looking for a more-or-less serious journal that wasn't cracky-by-design and couldn't find what I was looking for. So I rolled up my sleeves and decided to try my hand at writing one. This is spur of the moment writing to break up the monotony of work, so I haven't sat it on my beta's desk (we work together for a living, and he's already stressed as it is. I will run it by him of course, like I always do. Go easy on me. :) )**

**This journal has the same warnings as the rest of the Moonbathing universe: yaoi, BDSM, sexual overtones, D/s relationships, slight magic nods, mind games, sadism/cruelty...you know how it goes down, don't you? M for a reason, baby. The lemons here will either be thoughts or flashbacks - it's a journal, and it's Aizen's journal. Smexiness is a must! :)**

**This first entry is set more or less after the events in Chapter One of Moonbathing, just for the record. Story time!**

* * *

Some would call this a confession. I do not. The act of confession is perceived as an admittance of guilt, and guilt is not something that is allowed to exist in my world. My purpose for placing pen to paper is quite selfish: I simply enjoy going back and reading over the mental plays I have executed in the past, the ones I am currently executing now, and the future manipulations I will pursue in the future. These strings were in place long before I stared at the vast desert of Hueco Mundo and realized that the desert could bloom again.

A chessboard is an interesting thing, you see. Most people sit down at before it and see it merely as a one-shot ordeal, divided into three parts: the opening, the midgame, and the surprisingly complicated endgame. However, a chessboard holds far more than that. The deceivingly flat surface should truly be three-dimensional in nature -- with each plane showing life for what it really is: the ultimate game. As a child, I stood before a chessboard that was not my known and saw it played with the finesse and elegance of a cellist. Each string being delicately caressed and made to feel like the most special thing in the world. However, all strings must be replaced eventually.

Outsiders looking in on my chessboard may believe that none of my pieces are valuable to me and will be discarded on a whim - this is not so. Take for example, my lovely bishop, Ichimaru Gin. When I need him close to me, all I need to do is look to the square next to me. There he is, in all of his cunning, manipulative glory. As we walk the decades together I am realizing more and more that his tongue is just as silver as his hair is. He has become my left hand, slithering out diagonally when I need to gain more perspective on a situation without actually being in the situation.

My heir, and the more I think on it, my true lover as well. I have fought love for decades, without much progress. I have craved an empire nearly as long as I've craved true companionship, and thankfully, Gin is receptive to both of my deep desires.

The mirror princess, my lovely sword who has dazzled and confused my enemies all this time, tells me continuously that I am a man without fear. Ironically, this is the same reason why these Hollow have decided to follow me down this road.

I wonder why Gin is still walking down this road with me.

I wonder if Kaname knows why he is really walking down this road with me. For a man with such high intelligence, I am certain he realizes that "justice" is only part of the picture.

Ah, well. Onward...

* * *

Just separating my thoughts in an attempt to stay organized. I am left baffled at the events of last night. I really shouldn't spoil that little silver fox of mine; he is already spoiled and I think I have ruined a fine, fine instrument. A small part of me is pleased that he is so receptive to my approaches and even looks forward to them. In the beginning, the young boy I admired for his murderous tendencies was too afraid I would cross a line that really wouldn't have led me anywhere worth visiting. I waited a hundred and ten years for that beautiful, world-changing orb, I could easily wait for Gin to mature to my liking.

He certainly has matured into a man who sees so much, despite squinting his way through life.

I can still taste him on my lips, mingled with the mint cream he lathered his body with during that moonbathing ritual of his. He is not yet comfortable with changing our roles, and to be perfectly honest...I do enjoy his submission far too much to graciously take a power vacation. When he submits, Gin completely goes to another world where I don't think anything else exists except him, me, and the spell I have over him.

I have considered pressing the issue -- I'm fond of switching things up every now and then, if only behind closed doors. I have complete and absolute control over everything I see, everything I touch -- there's no harm in letting Gin experience an ounce of that control every now and then.

I wonder what he would do if he were controlling the scene. Not like last night where I had to force the paintbrush into his hands and guide his strokes on the canvas to the point where it might as well have been my creation in the first place. No, the next time I decide to put the reins in Gin's slender, elegant hands he will be able to create everything from start to finish. I will not have it any other way.

I noticed that we had an audience during our moonbathing escapade, which shocked me -- since when does my dear Ulquiorra have an appetite for the sensual? He leans away from every touch, every caress I place on that cool, pale skin. I am well aware I did not have his full attention during the eavesdropping, but instead had to split his attention with my lovely ivory fox as well.

This does not bother me -- the list of those that do not covet my most prized possession is a very short one; even that crude Decima of mine has made eyes at Gin. I assume that Gin doesn't make many moves out of respect for me, but he really ought to have learned by now I enjoy it when he plays his own chessboard games.

Why should I have all the fun?

The wheels are in motion now: Ulquiorra has decided to seek out Gin, and I am sure that my perceptive little fox is well are of this new development. I'm filled with anticipation of having both of my beautiful creations in my bed sooner than later. Now that will be a chessboard worthy of further study, to be sure.

For now, some much needed rest before I lead another meeting with my dear Espada...I will write here again soon.

* * *

A/N: **Not too much else to say down here that hasn't been said at the beginning. :) Reviews are welcome as always, but no pressure! :D  
**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chessboard, my Chessboard: The Diary of Aizen Sousuke**

**Disclaimer: Bleach is not mine. There's not enough BDSM and control games contained in there to be a Marisa Serise production, you know. Needs more cowbell? Only if 'cowbell' is the new euphemism for 'mind crushing manipulation and cat & mouse games', that is.**

**A/N: Back for Chapter 2 - This scene is directly timed after Chapter One of *this* story - he went to rest, and this is the rest of that scene so to speak.**

* * *

I daydreamed. Hm - in a land of eternal night, is it really still daydreaming? I don't have another word for it, so I'll have to rely on words that haven't learned to stretch and absorb my new reality. I have always been a very vivid dreamer - if I don't get pulled into my mirror princess's teahouse to 'catch up on old times', my dreams take me back to places I both enjoy and despise at the same time.

This time, I seem to have gone back to my lieutenant days. My mirror princess still wonders how I ever managed to deal with that crude fool without breaking one of his piano-shaped teeth. Her words, not mine, though now that I think about it...Hirako-taichou was a marvelous instrument to play! I dare say that I played him rather well - though not even my hands could make that man sound remotely pleasant. Oh well.

I can still feel the weight of the 5th Division insignia on my arm, constantly reminding me of the drudgery I was trying to escape in the first place. It was always so much fun to send my substitute in my place to handle all of that - while overseeing my most treasured project.

Drudgery as it may have been, life in the 5th was never lacking interesting moments, courtesy of Hirako-taichou. If there ever was such a misguided chess piece, it was that man. Always desiring to be a rook, laying in wait on the home row to sweep out with long range attacks on an unsuspecting enemy. No, my dear ex-taichou is nowhere near the value of the noble rook. To borrow and manipulate a word from my dear mouthy Sexta Espada, Hirako-taichou was nothing but a pawn with benefits. Watching him swell with arrogance at the assumption he had figured out everything about me was worth it when he realized he truly didn't know me at all.

When the mind is focused on what it fully convinced is presented before it, _it cannot think of anything else_. It cannot see the strings that are coming into view, nor can it see the trap building from all sides until the only sound left in the world is the hard, imposing click of the lock. It is quite obvious who holds the key.

Hint: not Hirako-taichou.

It was not all manipulation strings and chessboards back then - I enjoyed my relationship with the mirror princess. Seeing us grow together and hearing her resolve to see out my vision as if it were her very own was an experience I will savor even as I stand on top of the entire world. Most look at this chessboard and notice the Queen's space seems empty and unfilled. They would do well to remember that just because something is invisible, does not mean that it does not take up space. My mirror princess serves me well and I handle her carefully.

She misses our teahouse conversations -- when I was a lieutenant, they were easy to have because I could miss copious amounts of time. Setting the strings in place to stand atop the heavens has eaten into my time more than I expected. For now, I settle for correspondence, leaving letters in the opulent sphere that serves as her inner world. It is this correspondence that has brought her closer to me - I am slightly amused that she can be so easily swayed when she is well aware of my inner most desires.

When I came out of my daydream, I found an interesting letter fluttering in front of my eyes; an obvious note from the clever princess.

One line, and one line only: _...and you would do well to remember that even Queens serve, my lord_.

Indeed, my dear. Indeed.

* * *

The silver fox never tells me his daydreams, or any of his other dreams for that matter. Oh, he teases me with them, sauntering up to sit in my lap and whisper broken fragments, cracked and cheap dishes of thoughts when he is all too aware I will accept nothing less than full sets of the highest china available.

The dynamic between us holds more choice than meets the eye -- this small, fox-faced man doesn't kid himself with false thoughts of being able to protect himself from me. If I wanted to crack him open, drain away the slightly sweet but mostly bitter water into a bowl for safekeeping and claw out the inner meat of his thoughts - I could. Gin is my ultimate coconut. Sometimes when he is kneeling on his pillow his slanted, mischievous face reminds me of the three dots of the coconut.

Good thing I love him; I don't have the interest to smash him against the rocks. Yet.

I leave him small pleasures, more for the boy I know that is still hiding in that sleek, elegant frame than for the man that cannot stand any possibility of earning my displeasure. I see small flashes of the boy that hides within the man, and I have learned that patience is what is necessary here. No, I do not seek to extinguish the boy completely.

However, life is truly a series of hierarchies tangled and twisted together, a fact that most people either overlook or never consider throughout their entire lives. They are ruled by an invisible hand without the benefit of ever feeling its caress or profiting from its machinations. A pity.

I do not need to know his thoughts completely - his loyalty speaks volumes for how he sees me. He is slowly realizing that I express my love differently; not in additions, but in _absences_.

I _allow_ him to roam Las Noches freely, absent of any supervision.

I _allow_ him to pursue any being he wishes without punishment, absent of any interference from me.

I _allow_ him to wander the entire world of Hueco Mundo on his own, absent of any required purpose on his part.

Allow, allow, **allow**. Gin's entire life has been boiled down into a lengthy series of lists that would overwhelm even the sharpest wordsmith in an endless shower of bullet points and their sub-point children.

Slowly but surely Gin is learning the finer moves of the chessboard game. Instead of fixating his gaze on the next piece -- or even worse, moving the piece with his hand still on it only to slide it back to its original position after some mental re-shuffling -- he has learned to use his mind as a storage center for things he does not wish to give away.

Ah, if only he realized that the smiling mask he unleashes on the world has enough nuances in it to be the most alluring mood ring I have seen seen.

I wonder where my fox has gone off to -- seeing his moods is not as fun as being able to manipulate that curved mood ring with lips and tongues and fingers...as a start. The tip of the iceberg should always be used to lead one closer slowly, all the while distracting them to the submarine empire that lurks below...

Allow, allow, _allow_...

* * *

**A/N: Okay - still playing with the whole 'implied dialog' hook and angle. There's a bit of repetition — I am quite certain you're seeing a different shade of meaning with the last line, yes? *evil grin*. This is a little more Serious Business!Aizen, though I added a dazzling bit of sexual overtone both for my own amusement and as a bit of fanservice - there can never be enough Aizen hotness. I tried to go easy on the lemony flavor here because there's a lot to take in -- Aizen is starting to really spill the details of his thoughts and I'm very interested in keeping this going. While this isn't primarily a request fic, feel free to mention suggestions if you like. Aizen's presence is large enough to accommodate such a thing, I'm sure. **

**I left the actual daydream itself rather vague and turned it into more or less Aizen remembering his past in general. Also, times are rather vague because Hueco Mundo is eternal night - time gets a little slippery without the sun (I work at night, I oughta know!)**

***attempts an Aizen voice* It's time for you to review - obey, obey, obey. *smirks***


	3. Chapter 3

**Chessboard, my Chessboard: The Diary of Aizen Sousuke**

**Disclaimer: Bleach is not mine. Still. *drat* **

**AN: So - I tried writing CmC Chapter 3 yesterday - it didn't come out well. If you want to keep up with my recurring storyboarding efforts / thoughts, you can find me on LJ now. marisaserise . livejournal . com **

**This chap is inspired by zealot1138, who sucked me into the AiRenji fanverse. Two doujinshi I viewed were Very Hot. Capitalization strongly intended. So I whipped up this quickwrite since I probably won't have time to write before bed. I'm going to TRY to write fanfic at least an hour a day - I can manage that, I think. **

**I'm still testing what I want CmC to look like. It is still connected to Moonbathing, but I like Aizen when he's reflecting on his past compared to his future. So you might see a lot of these 'thinking / remembering' chapters for a while, until we get to the main events in Moonbathing again. Hey - if the anime can have filler, so can I! :)**

**Warnings: I'm Marisa Serise, folks, writing Aizen being Aizen... rough play, control games, yaoi, lemons, light/temp bondage. **

**Storytime in the place to be!**

* * *

In the land of eternal night, I still think back fondly on red fire, mirrors, and fangs. Ah, Renji. I suppose a man without ambition would have kept you, hm? I will not reflect on his stupidity on that cursed hill — he had to realize the outcome of such a rash decision. Wait — Renji and "calculated thought" don't go together well. Yet we came to a strange understanding behind closed doors. I'm certain he has the same idolization of me that Hinamori had. I am also certain Byakuya is placed on the same high pedestal. Not that the noble would acknowledge such a thing, of course.

There was an intimacy between us that didn't hover around pillows, blankets, and beds — no, such a thing would not have captured Renji so easily. Abarai wanted to see power, live in power, and work on harnessing that power to protect his friends. It's the little things I recall now: I kept my glasses on, just to keep his desires and illusions of me intact. Gin never needed such things, but my fox has rarely asked for much to begin with. Ah, but this memory is not about the silver fox.

My fondest memory of Renji has to be when he first obtained shikai. He forgot himself as usual, bursting into my office with the impulsiveness and high spirit I had grown to expect. I did not entertain his outburst, choosing instead to focus on the dance of my calligraphy brush sliding seductively over the scroll. I knew Renji was watching every stroke, every time I would segue effortlessly from light, airy strokes to hard presses. After a while, I decided to stop teasing him. I got up and motioned for him to follow.

Renji knew better than to ask the obvious question. We put shunpo to good use — with me allowing him to jump ahead every so often. You see, in order to preserve a fire like Renji's, you must allow it to burn slightly hotter than it did before. So giving him the illusion he was the faster of the two was an acceptable gift.

We reached our destination in no time at all. The empty lot technically belonged to Third Division, but I had taken it over under the pretense of repairing it. It was a space no one really wanted anyway, making it a straightforward transaction.

Once we landed, I immediately drew my sword. Renji was quite aware that I was a kido enthusiast, but an unbalanced shinigami does not a Captain make. Swordsmanship suited me just fine.

His shocked look made me chuckle. The unasked question was sidestepped out of necessity. I was fighting at a level that required too much concentration on his part for such questions to be born.

The release command for his zanpaktou amused me — _howl_, eh? Considering how many nights he would have woken up the entire 5th without my special barriers in place, howl was more than appropriate. He flung the sharp edge of this new blade at me, which I dodged effortlessly. We went on like that for a while until I saw he was spent.

Ah, is there any situation that Bakudo #61 doesn't solve? Those six rods locked Renji into place, a necessary thing for what I was planning to do next.

I recall him squirming and I gave him a glimpse of my true smile. A betrayer's smile, not that Renji would know that just yet.

Yet I cannot forget that I praised him as well.

I praised him on this milestone he worked so hard to achieve. Praised his movements across the deserted lot with a chaste kiss to his sweaty brow. Praised his confidence with a curl of my reiatsu digging underneath his clothes, brushing and teasing. By the time I finished praising him, he was quite...enthusiastic.

_'Aizen-taichou...'_

I guess he wanted to thank me. I suppose that's fair. Renji's zeal for these little moments made them well worth the time and effort to set them up.

So many pieces of pleasure in those little moments...

...his sigh as he was released from my six-rod light prison...

...my hands tracing the lines of a tattoo that was still in progress...

...his wide-open eyes as I prepared him without much thought...

...our tongues fighting a game of dominance that was decided before it began...

...his loud moans as I finally took him, the sound shifting into the same word that would now call out a weapon that would only grow in power over time...

...my hands reaching for his impatient hardness, my fingers already moist from his arousal...

...the scratches, bruises, and welts from my passion escalating, boiling out of me...

...him following soon after...squeezing me tighter than a thousand vices...

Cool wind. Moist heat. He sighed deeply, and I kissed him again, admiring the long fiery locks. We dressed quickly and took off for the 5th yet again.

Ah, Renji. Your fire has a way of linger long after it shouldn't.

I wonder...if you are crouched down even now with a new lover...showing them how to howl.

_Like you did me._

—**-**

**AN: *nervous face* My first AiRenji oneshot... I'm a little meh on Aizen - I thought about making him more sinister but I need a fluff break. I figured this would be a good memento, actually - zealot1138 makes a good case for AiRenji, and I don't think that Aizen has anything bad really to say about Renji. **

**Trying to update as I can - I'll probably be gone for the rest of the week, unless my schedule magically snaps open. **

**I appreciate all the alerts, favorites, PMs, and reviews. You guys rock my world. I'm sooo not used to having eyeballs on my work! Corporate copywriting is all about being invisible, so it's really cool to be *SO* visible here. **


	4. Chapter 4

**Chessboard, my Chessboard: The Diary of Aizen Sousuke**

**Disclaimer: Bleach is not mine. **

**Author's Note: Keeping it short today. Aizen reflects on Urahara, chessboards, and things that will never be. **

**Warnings: Yaoi, very light lime/lemon? - and the usual chessboard / mind games :) **

**Way cool peeps I must hat tip - 7dragons7, Juno Tartini, zealot1138 - thanks so much for reminding me to skip the haters and keep my writing-fu strong! Hiyah! **

**Okay. Storytime in the place to be :) **

* * *

_Urahara Kisuke. _

Former Captain of the 12th, the way I am the former Captain of the 5th.

_Urahara Kisuke._

Current exile, the way I am currently the Lord of Hueco Mundo.

The interesting thing about betrayal, truly, is that unexpected acts of betrayal cut the heart for years to come. That look in your eyes when you realized what I had been up to is one that I'll cherish forever. After all, it started the game we're playing now.

Those looking in on this war between Soul Society and Hueco Mundo seem to be missing a few pieces of important knowledge. They believe that this is the Head Commander and I seated at the chessboard together. Deadly opponents, to be sure.

However, this is incorrect. It is not the Head Captain and I at all — please, the idea of me playing chess with that outdated fool is laughable.

It is Urahara Kisuke and I playing this chessboard game, with our respective sides as the chess pieces that we move day after day, week after week. I could respect the analysis better if their ignorance were corrected.

I wanted him to be at my side, if I can pause a moment to be completely truthful. However, I have been around far too many chessboards to have such foolish thoughts of actually following through. Kisuke would have never followed me, let alone bent his head in submission.

Only one man can really stand on top of the world and look down. Indeed, there will always be devoted followers at the side of the ruler that will be able to see the same view, but the two viewpoints are different by design.

I can think of no better example than the current setup: Gin and Tousen will definitely stand with me when the time comes, but neither man will have the same viewpoint that I do.

Gin is loyal, strong, and simply brilliant. However, his desire isn't to stand at the top of the world — it's to be by my side. Those are two different agendas, but I stand to profit greatly from both of them. Accepting his agenda and incorporating it into my own will be a great chunk of my victory.

Tousen is on the other side of the spectrum. He believes that he is here to carry out justice, whatever that is supposed to mean. He will stand at my side yet I am not so sure that his eyes will ever be able to truly see the wonder of the world below our feet. It has nothing to do with the blindness of his eyes but everything to do with the blindness of his mind.

Would you be able to see the beautiful world below our feet if it was you standing at my side?

The chessboard we have built would never allow me to have you by my side, ever. Even as I demonstrated to you in the most brutal way possible how easily Soul Society turns on its most loyal, you would never turn against them. It was a chessboard move that I knew would break your heart. I had hoped that you would see how vicious, how cold, and how cruel the land was under the surface. The story of your Sousuke and my Kisuke has a ribbon of longing for our homeland to become the peaceful place it could be, instead of this false veneer that cracks, chips, and peels so easily.

* * *

I did not see him that day and believe for an instant that we would become lovers, let alone friends. He was too sure of himself, too smug, and far too confident in his abilities.

He was also far too hungry. He would fixate those dark blue eyes on me as I tried to focus on our Academy studies and I felt overwhelmed. It wasn't that I had never felt the eyes of a man on me; I was not innocent when I went into the Academy, nor did I regain any innocent upon leaving it. It was the way he would stop and stare at me as if such an action would make the ground swallow me whole.

_Urahara Kisuke. _

There was too much trouble swirling around one man. By the time he wore me down with stares, nods in my direction and those insufferable touches, I got to know him on a level others couldn't dream of. Perhaps Shihoin Yoruichi could rival my knowledge of him - after all, he made it clear without words that she would always come first.

Looking back, I often wonder if I would still have chosen this path if he had chosen me instead of the shape-shifting woman. Even in these honest pages, I cannot say with certainty that I would have turned away from the path I now follow. Not even for him.

Not even for the way his hands explored my body so openly, so brazenly, daring me to challenge him. It wasn't like such a challenge would be recorded with more than a wink and a shrug; that man lived to irritate me. Dominance and submission became a game that was played out within sparring circles and in the bedroom, with neither one of us wanting to admit the times where we hungered for the other to take control. I am a long way away from the quiet Academy boy that delighted in such carnal games; I like being on top now. Yet as I write this journal of mine, I am left still remembering the way he made being on the bottom rather pleasurable indeed.

Not even for those hungry, heated kisses that practically knocked my glasses off my face, with Kisuke laughing as he corrected his error every time.

He always wanted to take them off, to be able to look directly into my eyes. Did he realize the fire that he toyed with so freely?

It took several years before I took off those glasses. For him. I can still remember the soft gasp he made as he stared into my eyes under the low light of the lamp, the way he licked his lips and ran a hand through my hair. He would push my hair back playfully, commenting that I needed a more dashing look.

_Urahara Kisuke. _

Too much trouble swirling around one man.

Playing with fire when even fire knew better than he ever would.

One day, our paths will cross and we will finally see who is the better chess player. Perhaps it was meant to be that you would be the opponent I would have to defeat in order to sit upon the throne of heaven. If I believed in guilt, then I would believe this is my punishment for taking our playful chessboard game and twisting it for my own purposes. Fortunately, I do not believe in such a thing.

In the end, our problem is simply that we truly wanted different things.

He wanted love, understanding.

I wanted power, control, influence and leverage.

_Urahara Kisuke. _

Even in this journal, I cannot claim you as mine. I cannot sink my teeth in your neck the way I did decades ago and hear you gasp.

In the last of eternal night, I sometimes find myself missing the way you whispered my given name like the most natural thing in the world. Not even Gin, my right hand, says my given name with such familiarity.

I am not the Sousuke you once knew. When we sit down and finally have that last chess game, you would do well to remember that.

Urahara Kisuke.

I have to bring you down. Since you know me better than any other, you know that this comes with no guilt.

After all, guilt ..._has no place in my world_.

* * *

**AN: It's been forever since I updated 'Chessboard', and that really shouldn't be. I had lost the muse on this story since it's definitely a lot harder to write - getting into Aizen's head and speculating is fun but whew - challllllenge! **

**I don't ship Academy!(AizenxUrahara) as an OTP, but I like the rivalry. In the series, I can't think of anyone else that plays as fierce of a "chessboard" than Urahara. I mean, we get to see that the first time Urahara runs into Yammy and effortlessly handles him. **

**I apologize up front if Aizen is a touch OOC - I'm writing him from the perspective & assumption that he wasn't as manipulative / cunning in his academy days. In the TBTP arc, he makes several stupid glaring mistakes with the chessboard that annoys me so effing much. **

**I still have a lot of RL work to do, but I figured I'd offer small updates when and where I can. I'm so touched by the sweet fanbase I seem to have accumulated here - I'm honored and I'll continue to do my best in sharing my storyvisions with you :) **

**I want to keep doing the 'flashbacks' to cover all of Aizen's world before The Great Betrayal - so I'll be writing about all the Bleach characters eventually. I will also go back and cover the rest of the Las Noches Squad. **

**Mm, Team Evil - so yumz it hurts. **


	5. Chapter 5

_Chessboard, my Chessboard – The Serious Diary of Aizen Sousuke_

_Disclaimer: Bleach is not mine._

_Labels: chessboard, mind games, reflections, simulated journal entries_

_Notes: I figured it's time for me to slowly get everything updated. Whee. I find it a touch disturbing that I can dive into Aizen so happily, but here he is. Remember this covers only events from the Gardener's Touch arc. Um…just as planned? XD_

_Storytime in the place to be._

* * *

The truth is the reverse side having a reverse side is something that is becoming more and more apparent, but there are numerous other lessons the world will have to learn before they get anywhere near my level. Yet as soon as they manage to reach my current level, I am already on to the next stage.

I have not been able to forget the gardener's touch I have allowed to freely flow over and around Las Noches growing until it found its target. No, I should not say that. If these journals were ever found and studied...some would make the erroneous assumption that Inoue Orihime was more vital to this chessboard than her true value actually was.

Indeed, to say that I have touched her is the greatest understatement. I am aware that the mirror princess disapproves slightly - considering my true preferences lie more in lean lines rather than soft curves, taking Inoue was merely a game.

A good game, but a game nonetheless. Someday, when Gin steps back to really allow the chessboard and all of its glory to wash over him the way it needs to, he will understand the delicate intricacies of the game that I have so graciously set before him. For now, all he can do is gnash his teeth. I will only allow so much of that behavior before things turn for the worse, but pain is an effective teacher.

These entries have become...how should I say it? Soothing, in a way that makes me think of Soul Society. I almost think back to all the times I wrote such pages while in the Fourth Division recovering from the illnesses of my young soul-self. I am fortunate that I am not and never will be that weak again.

The more I reflect on the events I have set into place, the more I realize that coming for Inoue was a requirement, simply part of the way things must be in order for my point to be made. I really have little use for her while I wait for the weaklings to rush in and save her.

Some people need their illusions, I suppose. Saving Inoue - that is, taking her from Hueco Mundo to the human world, which does not sound much like saving her to me - is what they believe should be done. They are insistent on clinging to an outdated moral code that says that there is no way that Inoue could flourish in Las Noches, no way that she could be better suited to this palace than to the miserable human life she occupies in their world.

The human mind is an interesting thing - I have my moments of intense study, and I have passed the time of a soul's life by reading more about the human mind. It's very simple to program a human mind into a more pleasant pattern. It can be done through a series of commands, repeated continuously - but that is too obvious.

Neuro-linguistic programming, as the humans call it, is much more subtle. The cues must be woven into the tapestry of the subject's life in a way that does not bring suspicion. This means that it will be something that can only be practiced by an intelligent hand, one that understands how to be delicate yet forceful at the same time.

It is all about having an agenda, I suppose. My agenda is simple to those in Soul Society, but I highly doubt they understand the roots of the matter. It is true that I will bear down upon them; it is true that I will conquer these worlds and stand upon the top of the heavens. However, that does not mean there are not other threads involved.

Like most things, it can be explained through the game of chess. You see, all things in chess have a point value. This is something that even the beginning chess player learns. However, what is more difficult to learn is that there can be a point system or general value system applied to the chess moves themselves.

I will restate, just so I'm clear: It is not enough to study the pieces and their point values. You must weigh each move appropriately.

This is Soul Society's greatest mistake - they are so locked into one series of moves, as they assume that there is only one chessboard in play. How foolish of them. They assume everything and know nothing - tragic, but that is not my concern.

I am hopeful that Gin does not make the same mistake with the chessboards he has been challenged with. The woman is of no consequence - if Gin raised an eyebrow in her direction, I would have simply wrapped her up in a bow and offered her to him anyway. Not that I think Gin has anything for women anymore, I'm sure.

The girl he brought with him, Matsumoto Rangiku, was simply a distraction. Perhaps if he reflects on this situation in the timeline of his life, he will realize that this situation is not that different. I never saw the appeal of this Rangiku woman - far too lazy and too happy to conceal her intelligence. I study the chessboard from every angle, surely Gin couldn't be surprised that there is much strength hiding within the woman?

I had to disconnect those two, as she would never follow in Gin's footsteps. Too headstrong. Though, it is truly a shame I care so little for lush curves and sweeping lines - I will not deny she looks quite good, but simply not my tastes.

The ball is back in Gin's court. I am content to continue resting on my own while Gin figures out his next move, but I will eventually grow weary sleeping by myself. I am not a man who waits for very long, and soon I will grow restless and speed up the process to its natural conclusion.

I am also aware that Ulquiorra, my most loyal of the Espada, has decided to trail after Gin. This amuses me - the Espada who does not feel is giving Gin the illusion that they can work together against me in some fashion. What other option do they really have? My silver haired shinigami fox and the beautifully cold hardened Ulquiorra. Hm, another plan is forming in my head, but it will not do to actually speak of it now. So far, things are flowing nicely...all thank's to a gardener's touch.

_Just as planned._


End file.
